


All We Know Is Don't Let Go

by deandratb



Series: Tumblr Micro Requests [11]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fic; post-2x20.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All We Know Is Don't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimed. Prompt from [ilariaanto](http://ilariaanto.tumblr.com/): **I trusted you**

Liz invites herself to the new safe house, where Reddington was moved as soon as his condition stabilized.

After their last conversation, he didn’t expect to see her so soon. _This is either a good sign, or a very bad one._

At Raymond’s nod, Dembe excuses himself, shutting the door on his way out. A heavy silence descends as she sits, considers her words.

He’s not ready for this, lying defenseless while she strikes at him–-but he knows their world is unraveling quickly now. It can’t be stopped; neither can she.

“I trusted you,“ Liz begins quietly, and he hears an ending in her tone.

"I trusted you even at the start, when it didn’t make sense. When you were the last person I should have believed in.”

Red flinches, and looks away from her wounded, resigned expression. She wants answers, she wants lies–-he can’t keep up anymore. The pain is weighing on him, making things hazy.

“And as crazy as it felt, as **I** felt…” She shakes her head and continues. “I told myself that once I figured it out, when I had all the pieces and I put them together the right way…it would make sense then. It would all finally make **perfect** sense. I would understand why I trusted you, all this time.”

“So.” Liz waits until he meets her eyes, then holds his gaze for one long, excruciating moment. He feels like he’s falling.

Her next words are resolute, carefully measured. “Now, will you give me the rest of the pieces?”

Red looks as though he’s swallowing something bitter, but he shakes his head. “No. Lizzie, I can’t.”

“Won’t,” she corrects him. “You **can**. You won’t.” She stands, shifts away from the bedside chair, and Red aches to stop her.

He wants to tell her all of it, brush everything else aside and make things right between them-–but what’s at stake matters more than his feelings. _She matters more._

Then she turns, and with one impulsive step she is by his side.

“I hate this,” Liz says fiercely. “I’m so sick of it, there aren’t even words. But I really thought you might not make it this time.”

Restless, needing the contact, she slides a hand up his bicep, touches his cheek, grips his shoulder.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“What, get shot?” Red chuckles. He has been heavily medicated; this may well be a hallucination. One where Lizzie stays despite her fury, and regards him with shining eyes.

“Yes. I can’t lose you. You hear me, Red? Never again.”

He nods and pats her hand where it still rests against his forearm. “I’ll do my best.”

He was wrong; it isn’t an ending, after all.

It is a beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "State of Grace" by Taylor Swift.
> 
> If you'd like to see more of these, head [here](http://iwantthepony.tumblr.com/post/128453041570/send-me-a-number-and-ill-write-a-micro-story) to request one!


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